The numbers are now trickling in: nearly 2,900 dead in the UK, at least 35,000 dead across Europe. That’s how many people are believed to have lost their lives in this year’s early-summer heatwaves – the death tolls for the August heatwaves have yet to be counted. In a sense, these people died in a series of natural disasters, similar to the hundreds who died last month after flooding in Nepal, or during the 2024 floods in Valencia, Spain. And yet we do not process these events the same way. Increasingly deadly heatwaves are the most direct and damaging effect of the climate crisis felt in Europe, but they are rarely framed as such.
There are some obvious reasons for this. Heatwaves by definition unfold over longer periods than other disasters, they are less dramatic, the majority of those who die are elderly or otherwise vulnerable, and their deaths often take weeks or months to be catalogued and reported, all of which make heatwaves seem less immediate and visible. But while heatwaves will probably never provoke the same visceral shock as earthquakes or tornadoes, it should still be possible to shift the way the public thinks about them, which could save lives and lessen their damage.
The first and most obvious change is in the way heatwaves are reported on. The tendency to use images of “fun in the sun” should be balanced by serious examination of disrupted transit and the dangers of living in sweltering buildings. Perhaps the immediate fallout could be made more legible: heatwave deaths might be made more granular with personal detail. Ultimately, governments should report the death tolls and other fallout closer to the actual event – recall that during the Covid-19 pandemic the UK government statistics reporting was tweaked to reflect weekly Covid-specific deaths, which the media and public followed with close interest.
More could also be done to make heatwaves feel like a major collective experience, similar to other disasters. Research shows that over time the British public have come to regard heatwaves as a serious problem, one linked to the climate crisis. But at the same time, most people think that they are personally unlikely to suffer any health consequences. Worryingly, work by the British Red Cross showed that a majority of those aged over 75 did not consider themselves vulnerable to extreme heat.
It would help to better communicate the risks and potential adaptation measures to vulnerable people, but equally good would be fostering a sense of community responsibility. Currently, the UK government has an excellent system to warn specific sectors – such as medical and care services – about extreme heat. This messaging should be expanded, and voluntary and local groups should be further encouraged to help people at risk. Again the pandemic gives a model here – the Scottish and Welsh governments in particular fostered a sense that we were all in this together.
At a society-wide level, a pilot project in Seville, Spain, to name specific heatwaves and give them a categorisation system like hurricanes made early warnings more effective, and also provided an important anchor for news coverage. This simple intervention should be considered in the UK. Changing the way we talk about extreme heat seems a minor thing. But if the public can be helped to recognise heatwaves as the major disasters that they are, lives would be saved and people would be convinced that the difficult work of adapting to the climate crisis is urgent and necessary.
